


Cocoa/Cider (30 Days of Prompts)

by JoifulDreaming



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: Aziraphale knew what Crowley smelled like, too, thank-you-very-much.  And, it wasn't burnt chocolate.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Cocoa/Cider (30 Days of Prompts)

**Author's Note:**

> For my NaNoWrimo project: 30 days of short story prompts.

The smell of something burnt was his first tip that things were a bit amiss in their home. See, Crowley himself smelled faintly of brimstone, a slightly sour smoky scent. He tended to wear sweeter things over it like sandalwood and vanilla. Honestly, Aziraphale liked his base smell. It was warm and familiar. Not that the additions were bad. Not at all.

But a thick, dark, charred smell greeted him when he opened the door to the cottage. There was no smoke and no sight or crackle of fire, so Aziraphale wasn't as alarmed as he could have been. He carried the shopping into the kitchen with a little extra speed, though.

Pots. Their pots were everywhere. All over the counters and the breakfast nook. Some of them were even on the floor. Strewn between them were cartons of milk in various degrees of fullness and half hewn blocks of different chocolates: milk and dark and even white. Their sugar canister sat, empty, beside the stove.

In the midst of all of this stood a very startled demon who's face was slowly morphing from guilt to mortification. He was wearing Aziraphale's tartan apron and holding a half melted ladle. Aziraphale could identify the smell now, perhaps one of the saddest smells of all: burnt chocolate.

“I was... gone for an hour and a half?” The words fell out of his mouth in shock more than anything.

Crowley glanced around the destruction that was their kitchen and then back at him, eyes wide. He swallowed and lowered the ladle, looking sad.

Aziraphale pushed some of the pots to the side of their dining table so he could put the grocery bags down. Crowley was eyeing him with some amount of trepidation, he could track it out the corner of his eye.

“Have a chocolate syrup craving?” he turned to the demon, hands on his hips, face still neutral. Who knew leaving a demon alone in a kitchen for 90 minutes was akin to leaving a toddler in the same position.

“I wanted to surprise you when you got home,” Crowley tugged at his ear with his non ladle holding hand.

“You've accomplished that, darling.” He watched Crowley relax a little at the endearment.

“I'll clean it up.”

“I can help.”

“No, it was supposed to be a happy surprise. I... I got a bit carried away when it wasn't working,” Crowley turned to the sink, dropping the ladel in the warm, soapy water and then reaching for the current pot on the stove. As he moved it to the sink, too, the smell of burnt chocolate intensified, “you go read or something, relax. I'll take care of it.” His words had grown more and more mumbly as he spoke, shoulders hunching inward.

He walked over and put his arms around Crowley's middle, resting his chin on his shoulder, “what if I want to help? What if that would be relaxing for me.”

“It wouldn't.”

“You don't know. Maybe I have the sudden and undeniable urge to wash dishes.”

“You hate washing dishes,” Crowley was still pouting, but he could hear a smile tugging at his tone.

“You're right, of course,” he snatched the towel draped over Crowley's shoulder, “you can wash, I'll dry.”

“Yeah, alright, fine.” And so they worked together, starting at one end of the kitchen and working to the other end, Aziraphale occasionally taking breaks to put away the new groceries. Lucky he grabbed another sack of sugar while he was out. He upended it into the proper canister and slid it into it's place on the clean counter just as Crowley set the last clean dish in the drainer.

“I think you owe me for my hard labor,” Aziraphale had wrapped himself around Crowley again, hugging his back to his front and nuzzling his jaw. He knew he could get to the bottom of this. He tried not to take terrible advantage of it, these days, since he knew where it came from: but he was well aware that there was little, if anything, that the demon could deny him if he truly asked for it. Or hinted. Or thought about it hard enough.

“Told you that you didn't have to help...” Crowley leaned back into him anyway and Aziraphale squeezed him.

“I won't ask for much, promise,” his neck nuzzles were becoming neck kisses and he could feel Crowley's resolve crumbling in his arms, “just one little thing.”

“Okay, fine,” Crowley tilted his head away, clearly waiting for more kisses.

“How did the kitchen become the death of so much chocolate?” He wasn't letting up, though, nosing up behind the demon's ear and nipping the skin there.

“s'not fair!” Crowley whinged even though he was leaning into him harder than before, “You're using your wiles on me.”

“I learned from the best, my dear,” Aziraphale smirked as he trailed his nose along the shell of his ear, “I could give you one more thing in trade.”

Crowley just whimpered in response.

“I can tell you how much I really, really love seeing you in my apron,” He watched Crowley swallow hard and sway a bit, holding him tightly, “So now you'll be a dear and tell me what you were up to?”

“You said,” and Crowley sounded well and truly wrecked now, “you said the other day that you wanted some cocoa. Er, like the kind we had that one time. With the humans. I can't concentrate when you do that!”

He let the earlobe slide back from between his teeth and smirked, “you were saying?”

“We were in the living room the other day and you were on about this cocoa. How rich it was. How creamy. How it was made from 'real chocolate' and not the fake stuff. And milk or cream instead of water. I... I wanted to have something, at least a little, like that for you when you got home. S'all.”

“So all of this was for me?” He saw Crowley cut his eyes at him and watched a blush creep up his neck, momentarily distracted, “Well, that was sweet of you.”

“Not sweet,” he replied automatically but with no real heat, “and that was a terrible pun.”

“If you had asked me, I could have saved you some trouble. I have a lovely cocoa recipe in my recipe box,” Aziraphale pointed to the little wooden box next to the sink, “we could have made it together. I could have taught you.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” The indignance in his voice bespoke of a foot being stamped in frustration even if he kept both feet on the floor.

“Hmm,” he nuzzled the demon's cheek, “it makes me happy that you tried. I would still like to have another go of it, together next time. I like doing things with you, Crowley.”

Crowley turned his head and placed a kiss on his temple, “Sure, Angel, whatever you want.”

“Splendid.”

“But maybe not tonight. If I have to scrub another pot tonight I'll scream.”

“We can't have that.”

“Neh.”

“It just so happens that I got us a little something while I was out. Something a little different to try.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Aziraphale let him go and watched him sway a little in his absence before walking to the refrigerator and pulling out a jug of fresh apple cider. He picked up the remaining pot from the drainer- “this one's on me!”- and poured some in, putting it on the stove to heat up. Crowley tidied up a bit more as Aziraphale watched the pot, taking off the apron and hanging it on it's hook by the refrigerator.

“Could you fetch that bag for me, dear,” Aziraphale pointed to the paper bag sitting on the table. Crowley picked it up, slightly surprised at the weight and handed it to him. Aziraphale doled out two mugs of the apple cider and then revealed that inside the bag was some dark, spiced rum.

“Oh, Angel, you do know the way to my heart,” Crowley smirked at him, leaning a hip against the counter. 

“I should hope so, by now,” Aziraphale wiggled happily, handing him a mug.

“Let's take this show,” Crowley ushered Aziraphale away from the stove and grabbed the bottle of rum, “into the living room.” He put the bottle on the coffee table and sprawled, careful of his hot beverage, on the sofa. Aziraphale curled up next to him, leaning against his side, hands wrapped around the warm mug. He watched as Crowley took a sip.

“Good?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Better than cocoa, I take it.”

“Aziraphale, watching you enjoy a mug of cocoa would have made my night.”

Aziraphale took a sip, enjoying the feeling of the warmth from the cider and the alcohol, how it burn a little as he swallowed. He hummed happily.

“Okay, I'll add spiked apple cider to the list.”

“List?”

“Of things I like watching you enjoy.”

“Long list, then?” Aziraphale tried his best to feign disinterest, but he knew he was failing so he took another deep sip.

“Been keeping it for a millenia.” Crowley's hand had crept over and was curled around his knee, “yeah it's a bit long.”

“You're on it, right?”

Crowley choked on his next sip.

“Oh, bother. I meant that you're something I enjoy. I didn't- ah, well, I mean...” Aziraphale took a breathe, eyes going a bit distant, “Well, that wouldn't be a bad way to end the evening, either. Talk about happy surprises.” He smirked into his mug and watched Crowley sputter.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: [sushiandstarlight](https://sushiandstarlight.tumblr.com/)


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